Inside the Fire
by Boulder the Dragon
Summary: A teenage girl is unaware that she's soon to have an encounter with an infamous stalker. A descriptive tale of murder. One-shot, remake inspired, and written as a test. Feedback is appreciated.


**Hello there everyone. Boulder here, submitting this little test.**

**Recently, me and a friend from school have developed a love for A Nightmare On Elm Street. Mr. Krueger is a pure badass and is an even bigger badass in the 2010 remake.**

**So, my friend challenged me to do a NOES crossover with Happy Tree Friends. BUT! Before I just throw a crossover together (and since I've yet to write anything that wasn't HTF) I decided to create a one-shot to test and see how it would be to write about a different series.**

**So enjoy this little read and review if you like what you see. On to the story.**

* * *

Nothing could be heard from the end of the dark corridor, where a bloody light reflected off of a shiny metallic surface. The surface, a lone blade on the ground, was slightly stained with crimson blood, tainting the once clean weapon.

The corridor itself was grimy, cold, and very dark. Other then the bright light from the blade, nothing was illuminated, and nothing shined. It was as though this particular room had been isolated from the rest of the world, a lonely shadow casting it's eerie presence over it. Nothing moved. And nothing could be heard.

That is, until, the thudding of feet on the ground echoed through the corridor. Someone was traversing through the room, slowly, and cautiously. It was a female. And it was evident that she was afraid.

She was young, and looked to be no older than sixteen. Her hair wasn't particularly long or short, being at medium length and with beautiful waves. She was a brunette with equally brown eyes that were lovely and luminescent. She wasn't tall or short, and had a sweet and innocent face. Her long sleeve shirt was a unique shade of green, her jeans a dark colored blue. She wore a red ribbon on her right wrist and simple sneakers on her feet. She was very thin, her body displaying curves when seen at the right angle.

She was truly, a beauty.

However, she didn't know where she was. In fact, she couldn't remember much of anything that led to her appearance in the murky corridor. All she knew was that she was alone and afraid, fear gripping her heart like cold fingers. She wasn't scared particularly easy, but the shadows of the room and the strange red tint that shone where the black shadows didn't reach struck her as frightening. The fact that she didn't know where she was didn't help either.

She glanced around herself carefully, her eyebrows slanted and her eyes staring straight ahead. She began shivering, but not from cold. The room was actually fairly warm. Instead, her shivers were from the terror that was slowly but surely lodging into her mind. Was she fearing anything even tangible? Something worth fearing? Or was she just afraid of the isolation and her unknown surroundings?

The latter seemed more convincing. It also seemed more likely the further she stepped through the long room. The silence was somehow deafening, and she felt as though she should blanket her ears with her hands to drown out the quiet. As strange as it seemed, she continued to step forward, further into the unknown. It was as if there was something at the other side of the corridor that she needed to know, or needed to see. She felt drawn to that sense of unknown, and despite the obvious feeling of foreboding, she never stopped walking.

She could swear that she had been walking forever. Seconds, minutes, even hours seemed to pass by as she continued through the shadowed room at a mechanical pace. Finally, she could see the end of the room, and a feeling of calm came over her. Somehow, seeing the empty wall ahead of her seemed like the end of her confused fear. There was nothing special about it. It was nothing but a wall. Still, she felt serene.

Now she finally stood directly in front of that wall. She slowly stretched her arm out, opening her hand and spreading her fingers apart. She placed her open hand on the wall, realizing that it was damp and rough, dirty as well.

The blade that once cast the bright light, no longer sat where it was. It had been moved. But not by the girl.

She closed her eyes, hand still against the wall. She took in a deep breath, her chest rising as she inhaled and falling as she exhaled. With that breath, she felt as though any troubles she had ever had vanished and left her body. She felt clear, stress-relieved, and ultimately, free.

This sense of freedom and calm tore away as she heard the sounds of knives whispering together behind her.

The hair on the back of her neck stood up, and she held her breath. Slowly, she withdrew her hand from the wall, letting it fall numbly to her side. Her body was racked with shivers, and the whispers behind her never ceased. Her breathing became frantic, and her voice caught in her throat.

Finally, she turned around. There was a figure looming ahead of her, with what seemed to be knives on his fingers. The shadowed figure was rubbing his finger-like knives together, creating the audible whispering sound that she had heard earlier. She couldn't make out any facial features. But she could see that the strange figure was wearing some kind of hat and was clearly male. She could also make out an ominous smile spreading across the person's lips, and she could see his mouth open.

"Tag, you're it." he murmured.

Before the girl could respond, the dark figure was directly in front of her. She gasped and quickly tried to turn away, but the figure's knife-like fingers swung at her face, slicing deep into her skin. She yelped and crashed to the floor, landing with a thud on the filthy and hard ground. The hatted man then knelt down and grasped her head, shoving it against the wall she once thought as relief. She let out a harsh scream as the seemingly faceless man bashed her head over and over, pain shocking her body and causing her vision to cloud up. Tears quickly spilled out of her eyes, and her miserable screams turned to sobs of absolute pain. She could hear her tormenter laugh in a low and harsh voice, shouting and howling as she screeched and squirmed.

She felt numb, and her head began to bleed massively. The figure's sharp bladed fingers dug into her skull as her screaming slowly stopped. She grew cold and ceased her squirming, blood already pouring off her head and into her mouth and eyes. The man released his grip, letting his victim fall helplessly to the ground. Now a gory mess on the floor, she could hear a strange ringing in her ears. Despite all the pain she was just subjected to, she could feel nothing, and came to the agonizing realization that she was dying.

Lying on her back and practically swimming in her own blood, the young girl could see the hatted figure more closely now. His face looked to be burnt beyond belief and he was wearing a tattered and torn sweater. He also wore a fedora and gloves, the latter with sharp hand-crafted blades at it's tips. He hovered over her, and raised his hand for one last attack.

The girl opened her mouth. "W-who...are you..." she choked out.

The burnt man stared into her eyes before muttering his raspy response:

"I'm your worst nightmare."

Then he swung his knives down into her eye sockets, and took her life.

* * *

In a room as dark as the imagined corridor, a bed could be seen next to a dirt-stained window. Blood dripped off it's sides, and a teenage girl lay dead atop the once clean sheets.

It was as if she had died in her sleep.

* * *

**Well, there you have it. A simple yet effective look at one of Freddy's many kills.**

**Again, this was my first time writing for a different series, so I hope I did fairly well. Reviews make me happy, and have a nice day.**


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